


Metal Heavy, Soft at the Core

by Dustybaby



Series: elegantly bound [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dustybaby/pseuds/Dustybaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its been months since the Winchester roared in and out of her life. It's a new city. New life. A new name.<br/>But the supernatural always finds a way to catch up. After a set of strange and random murders, the Winchesters show up and try to figure out what is going on and run into her again.  A person from the Winchesters past shows up to claim something and break some things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metal Heavy, Soft at the Core

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.  
> Just the idea and the love of the Winchesters

 

 

I gave the skeezey apartment manager my money and began unloading my things from the truck I bought in Lacombe. It was hell unloading the mattress but a friendly neighbor helped me, introducing himself as Red.

 

After my time in Louisiana, I still wanted the southern comfort but needed a change. I picked Selma, Alabama. It was a city that was large enough to get lost but easy to make some acquaintances. I pulled out the blankets and linens that I carried with me. I pulled out my clothing and placed them in the antique dresser. I pulled a dark blue shirt that reminded me of a one-night stand back in Lacombe. I looked back at the bed and sighed. Little memories flashed in my head. I shook off the little girl fantasies and tossed the shirt to the back of the drawer.

 

“Asshole.” I muttered.

 

After a steamy night, I woke up to a note that read for me to take care of myself and how I was awesome company. It made me feel cheap but I still kept the damn thing in a box. I spent the night unpacking and being settled in. I fluttered through the house organizing things and making it perfect for my short three-month stay. I leaned back on the cheap couch and sighed.

 

“Home sweet home.” I sighed to the empty room. The walls in the room creaked and groaned, I looked around the house. It was old probably built in the twenties and at one point was probably was someone’s grand estate. I told myself the walls were going to creak because it was old. I got up and made dinner for myself consisting of box of mac and cheese and a beer with peanut butter cups for dessert.

 

I turned in early knowing I needed to go find a job in the morning. I stripped down and slipped into the sheets. I slept hard from all the hard work and getting readjusted in a new place.

 The morning came quickly; I showered and dressed in my best black pants and button down shirt. I was out on the street with a purpose by 9 am. I slipped into a diner and asked about help wanted sign for the waitress job. The overweight woman with frizzy over processed blonde hair with a name tag reading Fran, told me it was a night job, three days a week and how mostly truckers and tourists passing by were the only customers. The pay was crap but it was enough for me to get by, I figured with my charm could get me a decent tip. Even if it meant being hit on by old guys half my age.

 

Within a week, I had a rhythm. During the day, I would wander around town. Shopping in little stores or wandering out in the country with a camera to play amateur photographer. I made friends with a neighbor named Kristi who would cruise the farmers market. She was new to the area, she worked nights at the hospital and kept hours like mine. She was shorter than I was with long dark hair and pretty brown eyes. I went to work at night and was home by one in the morning. I would listen to the wood groan as I changed for bed, feeling exhausted. Sometime I could swear I was being watched or see something out of the corner of my eye but knew it was impossible. I was on the third floor and just being paranoid.

 

I laid in bed and drifted to sleep. My feet ached and my head hurt from the screaming little brat hours before at work. I took a deep breath and closed my brain down. I could feel every inch of my skin relaxing.

 

A high-pitched scream that was cut off echoed through the night air. I got out of bed and ran to the window. There was no moment beside the wind pushing the trees. I opened the nightstand and pulled out the small black .22 mm handgun tucked inside. I walked out of the bedroom and into the living room. I took a few steady breaths and opened the door to the hall. I looked out with the gun tight in my hand pressed against my thigh. The old woman down the hall, Mrs. Grindle down the hall was standing in her doorway.

 

“Damn kids.” She grumbled and threw her hand at me. I smiled and nodded.

 

“Night Mrs. Grindle.” I said looking at her. She grumbled at me and slammed her door. I peered over the railing seeing the neighbors below looking around.

 

Police came and canvased the building. After answering questions a million questions, I went to bed. I needed sleep because tomorrow was going to be hell if I didn’t.

 

In the morning, word in the building was apartment 2A was covered in blood and the woman who lived there was gone. It was my friend, Kristi. She had been killed coming home from work. Two women in the laundry room claimed it to be something satanic because the girl looked strange and hated the cats of her neighbor. I shook my head wanting more than anything to tell them to shut up and go to hell but instead I took my laundry back to my room.

 

Three night shifts and four days later, police were back in the building. The man from 2B had gone missing. I didn’t know him but has seen him in passing. He seemed friendly. His apartment was allegedly been covered in blood and his body was missing. The police questioned everyone in the building and made the promise to figure it out and no one had anything to worry about that they would handle the problem but we needed to keep vigilant at night. I doubted that they would but kept my mouth shut and away from the police. I didn't need them to keep poking around because it made me nervous.

 

I was nervous. I lived in 2C. The number 2 killer as the neighbors affectionately called the murderer. It made me the next target. Before work, I stopped at the general store and picked up another box of bullets and a large knife. I spent the night distracted, thinking about how in the hell I was going to defend myself when the killer came to call. I made my escape plan, I would pack a bag and barricade myself in my room, get away using the fire escape and get the hell outta dodge.

 

I drove home and parked outside the building. Part of me wanted to run. I stared up at the house and felt my skin crawl. The idea of being the next victim was terrifying. I thought about sleeping in the truck but the old clunker smelled like tobacco and old man cologne. But the seat was worn down and there were a few exposed springs that would cut me up if I did.

 

 I shook my head and grabbed my purse. I checked to see where my gun was. I pulled it out and tucked the gun into my jacket. I noticed movement around the side of the building. I watched the movement of two bodies as they disappeared along the backside. I knew there was a back entrance and decided not to let fear dictate my actions. Even though everything inside me was screaming to stop, I pushed forward. I needed to go inside and not be a pansy.

 

“God, I’m stupid.” I said to myself in the rearview mirror, “You are making monsters in the dark.”

 I slipped out of the truck and into the building. I walked the three flights of stairs. I heard whispers from the floor below me and stopped. My skin bristled and I held my breath feeling my heart stammer in my ribs.

 

“Shut it!” A voice hissed just beyond my line of sight.

 

“You shut it!” another voice snapped back in a whisper.

 

I set my purse down and pulled my gun out. I walked carefully down the carpeted stairs towards the second floor. I pressed my back against the wall as I had seen in the movies and moved along it. I listened to the voices that led me to the room of my murdered neighbor. The police tape was cut and the door was slightly ajar.

 

“Fuck.” I whispered as my curiosity or stupidity pushed me to open the door, _‘Why_ _are_ _you_ _doing_ _this?’_

 I slipped in the door and moved along the wall. I saw beams from flashlights scan the room. My heart was racing faster and for a moment I was convinced my heartbeat was about to give me away. It thudded as loud as thunder in my chest and ears. I held my breath and tried to calm down. I slipped into the kitchen that was covered in fingerprint powder. I listened to the voices talk. I didn’t touch anything. If this was the criminal coming back to get their kicks, I wasn’t going to be entangled in that.

 

“This job feels off.” The first voice called out in a whisper.

“Yeah, could be a pissed off ghost? Maybe a demon?” Another voice whispered back and the sound of a cabinet near me squeaked.

“Why though? This property has nothing negative, no strange deaths. No occult activity. Nothing. Hell, it’s almost too normal. It could just be a demon.” The other voice echoed from the bathroom. The tone and flow of the words struck me as familiar.

 

 I bumped the chair in the kitchen and froze. The metal leg squealed and fell to the floor. I had my gun tightly gripped in my hands and ran out the door. It was stupid but all the nerves and fear boiling in my body told me this wasn’t time to fight, it was time to run.

 

“Go! Go!” I heard a voice yell after me.

 I heard heavy feet follow me. I ran into the hall and up the stairs. I slipped into my apartment, giving away my safe place.

 

Slamming my door behind me and locking the door, I set my gun on the table by the door. I pressed my back against the door and took hard heavy breaths, feeling my body humming with adrenaline. I don’t know why I went in after the lunatics but I did. I could have been hurt or worse killed. I was safe now. They couldn’t get me in here but I needed to get out.

 

I stepped away from the door and ran to my room. I started to pack my get out bag when as five heavy bangs hit the wooden door. I yipped in fear and backed up from the bed. I stepped into the living room and waited for another hard bang on the door.

 

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck.” I said quietly as I pulled my purse on my shoulder. I thought I was going to throw up.

 

“Open up.” A harsh voice called from the other side of the door.

 

“Who is it?” I asked with a trembling voice.

 

“FBI, ma’am.” A different voice, softer but still firm called out.

 

_‘Awesome. FBI and I broke into their crime scene. That was gonna lead to jail time.’_

 

“I’m not dressed.” I lied hoping to send them away. I heard another bang on the door and jumped.

 

“Put some clothes on ma’am and open the door.” The other angry voice called out, “We will kick the door down if you don’t open up.”

I heard Mrs. Grindle tell them to keep it down. The men apologized buying me time to flee. I ran to my bedroom and opened the window. I grabbed my ‘run bag’ and stepped out on the rickety fire escape. The rusted metal crumbled in my hand. I heard my door bang open and the men step in. I rushed down the old iron and looked up for a second to see a longhaired man peering down at me with an exasperated look on his face. I ran faster down the fire escape tripping a step and damn near falling over the edge. I gripped the rail and kicked the last ladder down. I jumped to the ground feeling the electric shock in my knee shoot up to my hip. I booked it fast ignoring the pain and headed for my truck. My purse smacked into my back throwing my gait off as I ran.

I had cleared the building and was just past the large hedges when something tackled me from my left. My body slid in the grass and rolled a little. I felt hands trying to grab at me and I let out a small shout.

I struggled to get up from the wet grass struggling to get breath my lungs feeling my ribs to tighten harder and ache with need to get air flowing. My gun flew into the grass away from me. I tried to fight off my attacker with a punch to the face and a knee to the stomach. The body was thick and heavy against mine; taking hits to face and neck like a boxer. I couldn’t reach for the gun but I was pinned to the ground by my shoulder with a strong hand and a forearm to my throat. A splash of water in the face brought air to my lungs casing me to gasp. My eyes flew wide and everything seemed to brighten.

 

“Stop fucking fighting.” The rough voice shouted at me, as I struggled under the man’s weigh, trying to buck him off me, “You’re not a demon! What the hell are you?”

 

 I stared up at a face that made something trigger in my memory. Images of a handsome face, soft lips and a set of hands on my hips. I slowly stopped fighting and stared at him. He blinked and sat back letting go of my wrists. I threw a punch that landed him in the jaw. He turned his head and glared at me.

 

“Wait. I know you.” The man said staring at me with a confused look on his face. I blinked and slowly pieces were fitting back together.

 

“Dean?” I asked him blinking. I stared at the strong jaw and freckles. His green eyes caught the light and shined bright at me. The split full bottom lips which was now curling into a smile.

 

“Dean!” Another man called out running towards us; he slipped in the grass but stayed upright. Dean crawled off me and helped me up with a firm and scuffed knuckles. I reached for my gun and tucked it into my jeans. The man stopped on the other side of me, he was a giant with long floppy brown hair, a wrinkled for head and a confused. He looked worried at Dean.

 

“Hey Sammy. It’s good, I’m okay. I know… her.” Dean said looking at me, “Your hair is different. Weren’t you a blonde?”

 

“Yeah. I was.” I sneered at him and trudged myself back into the building. I was soaked from the freshly watered grass. I was done; all the anger of being left a note and feeling cheap came back to me. I gritted my teeth and sucked in air through my nose.

 

“Hey, wait!” Sam called behind me. He jogged up to me, walking away from this fucked up reunion. His voice was low as his hand touched my arm and I yanked it away from him. I didn’t bother to stop just I trudged up the stairs.

"All right, look, my name is Sam Winchester. That’s my brother Dean. We kill vampires. And werewolves, and demons and basically, we chase down evil and kill it." Sam followed me up the stairs. His voice was kinder and softer than Dean’s was.

“Yeah unfortunately, I know Dean.” I said rolling my eyes, “Monsters aren’t real.” I stepped into my apartment, Sam followed with Dean slightly behind him. I was itching all over; the wet grass that pulled up was clinging to my clothing and in my hair. I set my purse down but never let go of my gun. I kept it in my hand and made sure the safety was off.

“What the hell are you doing in Selma?” I said staring past the giant man and directly at Dean. He looked at me with suspicious eyes and scanned my body. I was burning with anger. I wanted to shoot him but had no reason to do it justifiably. He dropped my bag I had thrown by the door.

 

“Working a job.” He growled at me, “I could ask you the same thing.”

 

“Working a job? And I live here!” I snapped back at him, “Why in the hell were you two in my dead neighbor’s apartment snooping around? Better yet, you think hunt you monsters… don’t you think you two need some help?”

 

“We do hunt monsters. Listen; easing you into the fact that monsters and things that go bump in the night are real but guess what, you are in the next victim.” Dean said rubbing his forehead, “So, guess what? Monsters are real. All things supernatural are real.” His smug answer made me seethe a little more. I frowned hard at him and rolled my eyes. I knew he wouldn’t give me a straight answer.

 

“Yeah, okay. Now, tell me the truth.” I said point my gun at his face. I knew my hands were shaking but I wanted answers.

 

“Put your gun down.” Sam said with a stern voice. His hands were up showing that he was unarmed as he stared at me. Dean stepped forward as I pulled the hammer back. Dean grabbed the barrel and ripped it from my fingers. I hissed at him and grabbed for it.

 

“Hey!” I shouted at him and shot a glare at Dean.

 

“Don’t aim a gun at someone, if you ain’t gonna fire it?” He growled at me. He dislodged the chambered round in the gun, dropped the clip from grip, and placed the metal pieces on the coffee table.

“It sounds nuts but there is something bad here.” Dean said with no emotion in his voice. He scanned my face as if I was a new species, “Sam and I can help.”

 

“We think you might be in danger.” Sam explained with tender eyes and a relaxed voice.

 

“Yeah, okay. I’m fine. I can handle myself.” I said rolling my eyes at him.

 

“Listen…” Dean shook his head, “Something is happening in this building and you need to get out because if you go up against it will kill you just like the last three.”

 

“Yeah, you know what’s happening? A guy I had a one night stand with months ago is standing in my apartment in a new city months later telling me that a ghost or fucking demon is gonna kill me.” I said glaring at him, “By the way, thanks for the note. Way to be classy.”

“You’re pissed cause I didn’t stay and cuddle or make breakfast? Wow, way to hold a fucking grudge.” Dean said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes.

“You know what, Dean. Go fuck yourself and your demons.” I said rolling my eyes and turning my back to him.

I walked into the bedroom and pulled open the dresser. Dean followed me into the bedroom. I ripped off the wet shirt and dropped it on the floor. I pulled a clean worn-out tank top on and turned to see him staring at me.

“Can I help you?” I snapped at him. I pushed past him and into the living room. Sam was standing by the door looking at me.

“Me and my brother can help you.” Sam said with soft eyes. His long hair fell to the side as he tilted his head slightly to stare down at me.

“You need to get out of the apartment for a couple days. Just until we can get this cleared up.” Dean said sounding genuine in his request. He’d dropped the annoyance and anger from his voice.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I said firmly as I crossed my arms over my chest, “This is my home for the next three months. So monster or not, I am not going to leave.”

“Then we are staying here.” Dean said sitting on the couch

“No, no, no.”  I said looking at him with a hard look. I stood in front of him and grabbed his arm. I tried to pull him up but he wouldn’t budge.

“It’s the only way to keep you safe, if you won’t leave.” Sam sighed as he rubbed his forehead. He sat on my couch and stared at me.

“The attacks happen every three days.” I said looking at him with an exasperated. I just wanted to take a shower and go to bed. Both men looked a little shocked at my revelation.

“How do you know that?” Sam asked.

“I live here, duh.” I said rolling my eyes.

“Anything you can tell us about the attacks?” Sam asked curiously.

“No.”

“Nothing, not a bad feeling or strange smells?” He asked me leaning forward a little in the seat next to Dean.

“No. I mean, this place gives me the creeps in general but it’s just old.” I said shrugging, I ignoring Dean completely.

“That’s a start.”

“But bad feelings are nothing. I can take care of myself; I have a gun to protect me.” I said shaking my head.

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean anything isn’t going to happen to you.” Dean said kicking his feet on my coffee table “Guns will just piss it off.”

 I rolled my eyes at Dean, slapping his boots off the coffee table. He huffed at me and grimaced.

“Well, I feel it is my obligation to stick around and make sure that you are safe.” Dean said with a sarcastic grin at me.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I threw my arms in the air.

“Nope. Get comfy sugar pants.” Dean said closing his eyes.

“Don’t call me sugar pants, you prick.” I said with prickliness in my voice. My fist were clenched into balls.

“Well stay out of your hair. I promise.” Sam said softly.

He placed his big warm hand on my arm. He wrinkled his forehead and softened his eyes making them seem three times bigger and sadder. Sam gave a sweet smile. My anger turned to a slight irritation with a touch and a look from Sam.

“Whatever. I’m showering.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Sam nodded and gave a sweet look. It was hard for me to be angry. He shouldn’t look like that, he was a giant so what gives him the right to give me puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t touch anything.” I pointed at Dean and stormed off. I heard him snicker as I slammed the door.

I locked my bathroom door and showered. I thought about the fact that I had two strange men in my house. How I let Dean get under my skin. I had one night stands before and never attached feelings to them. Why was I doing it with him now?  I never lost my cool like this; maybe it was the fact that he was just a jerk and I like jerks. I shook my head as I finished my shower.

I wrapped my fluffy robe around me and stepped into my bedroom. Something told me to trust them, something about the way they talked about it made sense. I heard stories of ghosts and monsters; everything has to come from something right?

 I pulled on black pants and the shirt I changed into before. I stepped out to find Sam and Dean sitting on my couch. I shook my head and sat in the chair across from them.

“Spell it out. Why am I in danger?” I asked them.

“Monsters don’t have rules; they just do fucked up things.” Dean said as he looked up as he left his finger on the screen of the laptop in front of him.

“Okay. Why is a monster killing the tenants?” I asked him.

“We think it could be a vengeful spirit or a demon.” Sam said looking at me, “Demons don’t have a reason for their behavior. They kind of like to fuck things up, just for the fun of it.”

“If it is a spirit, it could be something to do with the property. On the other hand, it could be a haunted item or cursed object. Or someone is pissed and using the ghost to do the heavy lifting in the building.” Dean said looking at me.

 

“Okay. Why would the demon or spirit be working on a time line?” I asked them, leaning forward and placing my elbows to my knees.

“That is what we can’t figure out.” Sam said smiling at me.

“Okay. So what now?” I asked them.

“We try to figure it out.” Sam said with a half-smile. I sighed and nodded.

“I know it’s late but I’m starving. You guys hungry?” I asked them, “I can cook something for you.”

“Yeah!” Dean said sounding like the person I met months ago. His voice made my belly flutter with excitement.

“I’ll take coffee, if you can.” Sam asked sounding as if he was worried about being a burden. I got up and walked into the little kitchen. I opened the fridge and rummaged through my things.

“I don’t have much food. I have cheese, bread, some lunchmeat and apple pie.” I said looking up.

“Pie!” Dean blurted excitedly.

“Easy fix, I guess.” I said to myself quietly.

I brewed coffee and placed pie in front of both of them. Sam smiled and thanked me. Dean did the same. I listened to the two of them talk about history of the property and the blueprints. I got up, grabbed my laptop from a bag, and fired it up. I had a hunch and I was probably wrong but something in me said to take a just look.

I started searching the property as far back as I could. I scanned the articles until I was seeing double. I came up with nothing. Nothing strange. I clicked for one more page of research and came up with nothing. I closed the lid and yawned. It was four thirty in the morning.

“So, I need sleep. I have extra blankets. Sorry, I only have one couch.” I said feeling hesitation in my voice, “I can let someone sleep in the bed with me.”

I regretted the words that escaped my lips as Dean slowly looked up at me. A dirty smile stretched across his lips. It made something in me anger but also a strange excitement was there.

“If it makes you more comfortable, I can sleep out here.” Dean said licking his lips and scanned my body.

“Whatever. Figure it out, I’m tired.” I got up feeling stupid for even opening that door even though part of me wanted him to take the other side of my bed

I walked into my room shutting the door behind me. I dropped my black pants and slipped under the covers. I turned the light off and tucked the pillow under my head. The door opened causing me to look up. Light flooded in around Sam as he stepped in and stood awkwardly.

“Uh, I thought that you might be more comfortable if it was me… considering your past with Dean.” Sam stuttered a little.

“As long as you are a gentleman, you are welcome in here.” I said softly. I was too tired to protest.

 

Sam laid on the bed; he was still in jeans and his boots as he pressed his head into the pillows.

“You can’t be comfortable.” I said turning my head and looking at him.

“I’m fine.” He lied; I could see in his face that he was not comfortable.

“Sam, take your boots and pants off.” I said with a little growl in my voice.

“I don’t…” he hesitated. I sat up turned the lamp on and looked at him with a glare, “I guess.”

Sam stripped to his boxers and a shirt. I flipped the blanket back while he changed and re-adjusted.

Sam slipped in bed and laid stiff. I listened to him breathing and sounding like he was uncomfortable.

“So, you actually hunt monsters.” I said softly.

“Yeah.” He said with a yawn.

“Go figure.” I sighed. I remembered those last words.

I didn’t dream but woke up to hearing the shower running. Sam was in the bed with me. His arm draped over my back.

I slowly got up and pulled my pants on. I slipped into the living room and made coffee. Dean stepped into the room and smiled at me with damp hair.

“What?” I said defensively.

“Nothing.” He said looking at me with a smile.

“I thought your name was Annie?” He asked me lifting up the work shirt from the diner from the back of my chair.

“I, uh.” I stuttered looking at my shirt, “it was.”

“But this says Lucy.” Dean said touching the stitching on the name, “Is that your name too?”

“Yeah, sure. You could say.” I felt myself getting a little itchy with nerves.

“So, Ann Lucy?” He asked me suspiciously. He stepped into the kitchen and got uncomfortably close to me. I could feel his breath on my skin and the small hairs on my arms raising at the closeness of his body to mine.

“No...I...I don’t have to explain myself to you.” I said clearing my throat. He was inches from my face; I could smell the minty toothpaste on his breath. I looked at his lips then up to his eyes.

“Who are you?” He asked with curiosity in his voice.

“Lucy.” I said with butterflies in my stomach. I bit my lip and looked down, “I still hate you.”

“I had to leave like that.” Dean explained with tenderness in his voice. His hand brushed my lower back and made my body shiver.

“Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls, Dean.” I said softly.

“No. I don’t have to...I never see them again.” He said with a cocky smile. I snorted and rolled my eyes. I reached for a coffee cup.

“So, you gonna tell me who you are?” He tracked me across the room with his eyes.

“Lucy. I already told you.” I said looking at him as I sat on the couch. He grumbled frustrated by my stubbornness, which made me a little happy.

We spent the day in the apartment. It was suffocating being in the small space with them. Dean and I would have awkward run-ins going for coffee or beer in the kitchen or arguing over moot points that ended up getting us nowhere. Sam spent his time reading and researching on the internet. I was struggling between irritation and attraction to Dean. He hurt my feelings before but something about him made my heart jump a little.

Day turned into night; I got nervous as the sun faded away, I knew it was the third day. I was sitting next to Dean; he looked at me with a strange look. I refused to look at him. In the back of my head, I knew that if things were to follow the timeline that would mean tonight was the end of the line for me. My brain screamed for me to beg them not to let me die. It was also screaming to make sure I had sex before I died, and then coming up with the most ridiculous sex scenarios possible.

“So, let’s say we figure this out. How do we stop it or kill it?” I asked him.

“Here is the tricky part. If it’s a ghost. We’d have to track down the bones. Then we salt and burn them. If it’s a demon, we get it with a devil’s trap. We can exorcise it or I can send it back to hell with this.” Dean said pulling out a shiny silver knife. It had strange engraving on the serrated edge of the blade and the handle looked like it was hand carved. He passed it to me. I touched it carefully like I was holding a bomb or a diamond.

“So uh, what’s a devil trap?” I asked Dean.

“This.” Dean pulled a piece of paper out and pointed to a pentagram with symbols inside of the circle, “We’d have to paint this on the entrances and exits. We’ll line the windows with salt.”

“You’ll be safe.” Sam promised.

“Awesome.” I said exhaling but feeling the opposite.

We spent an hour painting traps and pouring salt at the windows and entrances but leaving the front door untouched. I sat in the bedroom; I could feel my knees shaking from nerves. I looked up to see Dean standing in the doorway. He was leaned against the wood.

“Don’t be scared. We do this all the time.” He said with a smile.

“Yeah, but I don’t.” I said looking up at him.

“I won’t let you get hurt.” He smiled with kindness in his eyes. He licked his lip and watched me carefully.

 

“I can’t die. I’m only 27.” I confessed.

“Annie. Or Lucy… Whatever your name is, I won’t let you get hurt.” He stepped in and sat next to me, “Keep this on.”

Dean put a necklace over my head and traced his fingers down my neck and shoulder. He reached for my hand and put his over it. I looked at his face. He looked sincere as he stared at my face, his frustrating and beautiful green eyes stared a hole through me forcing me to feel like I was naked.

I kissed him. I pulled my hand from his and cupped his cheek. It caught him off guard but he quickly reacted as soon as his brain caught up. He touched the back of my neck with his fingertips. I pulled away and looked up at him.

“Don’t let me get shredded to ribbons.” I asked him as I licked my lips.

“I… won’t.” He paused and stroked my cheek.

As he stood up the bedroom window exploded, sending piece of wood and glass sailing through the room. Dean pushed me to the floor and covered me with his body. I gripped his shirt and tried not make too much sound. He sat up and peered around the room. Black smoke was swirling around the room, creating a strange wind inside my room. Dean grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the room. Sam was waiting with a shotgun in hand.

Dean pushed me behind him and backed me against the wall. A small framed woman stepped out of the room and smiled at us. I stared at the woman; I knew her face. I knew the black hair and shiny eyes. She had sharp cheekbones and a sharp jaw. Her lips were painted red and smiling. Almost snarling at us as she moved closer. It was Kristi.  I wanted to speak but fear had my throat in a tight grip.

The woman raised her arms and slammed all of us in to the wall. Dean and Sam dropped their weapons. The compression on my chest was what I imagined being run over with a truck might feel like. I let out a small whimper and curled my fists. I refused to go out like this. I had spent the last two years running. I was not about to die like this. I struggled a little but it never loosened.

“Sam and Dean Winchester.” The woman said with a smooth voice, “I have been waiting five _long_ years for this.”

“Why so long?” Sam croaked out with the sound of intense pain behind his words. The demon looked at me and smiled, “You have a new play toy Dean. You get bored of the angel?”

Dean groaned and turned his head away from her.

“Kristi?” I said with a strained voice.

“Yeah, but no.”

The demon twisted her fist and sent me across the room and into the bookcase. I was directly across from Dean. I felt my skin on my shoulder split as I had hit the wooden case. Blood ran down my back. My head was throbbing and I was fairly certain I broke something.

“Oh just so you know, _Dean_ when you use that fancy demon knife… it doesn’t kill us. It just shreds us apart, painfully tearing away all the building blocks. That takes a while to get put back together again in hell.” Her voice was filled with spite, “But it is _so_ worth it.”

“Listen it’s been a long five years, which one are you again?” Dean quipped back with humor raw in his voice.

“Wait your turn, flea. I want to take my time with my boy here,” the demon strolled up to Sam, “the boy who could have been king.”

“Back off bitch.” Sam snapped back. I was too scared even to think. Tears rolled down my face and stung the small cut from glass shrapnel hitting my cheeks. The Winchesters kept their composure so well that I was impressed.

“Oh, don’t you recognize me Sammy?” the woman stepped closer. She stopped and hit an invisible wall.

“Devil’s trap, bitch.” Dean choked out. The pressure began to lighten as the demon struggled to move.

“You assholes!” She screamed and raised her arm. The pressure was soon gone. I dropped down and stayed against the wall.

“Now, which one are you again?” Sam asked as his breathing began to be regulated.

“Think about it, Sam. We had a lot of good times.” She smiled at him, “We brought Lucifer up, hacked that nurse to pieces. You and I broke seals.”

“Ruby?” Dean asked her as he stepped away from the wall to his fist tight around the knife.

“Two points for the one who can’t think right.” The demon girl growled spinning to stared at us with hallow black eyes.

“Y’all know this evil bitch?” I asked them.

Sam looked down. Dean was stewing about something causing his jaw to clench and the muscles to pop and move under the skin. Dean pointed to the metal chair and nodded. I handed Dean the chair. He dropped it inside the trap and forced her to sit by ripping her down with her hair. He cuffed her down with strange looking handcuffs and stepped back.

“Why are you killing people?” Dean asked her, “Lose the colorful sarcasm or you lose a finger.”

“We are looking for something, idiot.” She said rolling her eyes.

“What!” Sam asked staring at her with a frightening ferocity that I had not seen. Granted I did not know the man very well but it gave me chills.

“We lost the take out menu to Hong Kong Café.” She snipped back.

Dean stabbed her leg making her scream out in pain, “This is a warning.”

“Wrong answer.” Sam growled looking at her.

“What did you lose?” Dean snapped as he poured water over her head. She sizzled and steamed with cries of pain. Her body lifted from the chair slightly as she looked at Sam.

“Screw yourself!” She shouted at them.

“Nope, wrong answer.” Sam splashed her across the face with water then poured water into her open wound. The demon made sounds I have never heard before. Low growls and the sound of something that belonged in the deepest pit of hell.

“We lost the key.” She hissed at them. Dean smiled.

“Key to what?” Dean asked her causally.

“Hell on earth.” She said sounding exhausted.

“What is it?” Dean asked her. I found myself staring at her.

She was mesmerizing. I could tell she was pure evil rolling around under the skin of a face I knew. It wasn’t like a flashing red light but there was darkness around her. A heaviness that surrounded her. It wasn’t a feeling I got often but I knew that she was different even before she disappeared. Dean backed off letting Sam take over for a minute.

“Like the horseman rings and a talisman.” She cried out, as she was soaked with another round of water. I felt my hand reach for Dean’s hand. I don’t know if I was moving in fear and seeking out comfort or if I needed to be grounded in this insane situation.

 A damn demon .A captured demon in my living room screaming out in pain and spouting steam from her skin. I was gonna need therapy or to get really fucking drunk.

“It’s Celtic metal work with a black stone.” She shouted and writhed in the chair, “The Druids created it to release the underworld in great times of struggle.” I thought about the talisman.

 How could something so evil be made to sound so innocuous? I wondered if the object had a heavy presence around it like she did. I thought about necklaces and the image of it around someone’s neck.

“Well, we have the rings.” Dean snapped at her, “Why are you here?”

“We have been sent here to find it. The holder is hard to pin down!” She cried out as Sam twisted the knife in her leg, “All of these things will make a demon powerful, stronger than Lucifer and all the angels!”

“Well, you go back to hell and say hi to Crowley for us.” Dean smiled and pulled the knife from her, “Bitch.”

 Sam began speaking Latin at the demon. She begged them to stop, making a promise to help them stop it. She made a claim that the charm was in the apartment. She screamed how she was going to rip them apart limb by limb. She shouted my real name out as she begged for help and I flinched. She called Dean cursed and told Sam he was going to be alone in her desperation.

Black smoke poured from her mouth. She choked on the smoke as it poured onto the floor. I watched as the body went limp and the smoke circled her feet. The smoke changed into embers then was gone. A small woman sat slumped in the chair.

“She alive?” Dean asked. Sam pressed fingers to her throat. He looked up shocked and nodded.

“I’ll get her to the hospital.” Sam said looking at Dean.                                                 

“We’ll get this place cleaned up.” Dean looked around. Sam nodded then picked up the body of the woman, Kristi as Dean let the shackles fall to the floor.

After he took care of the gash to my shoulder and bandaged the cut to my arm, Dean and I picked up the broken glass and pieces of wood and plaster from the floor. I mopped up the blood on the floor. My body started to ache as I pushed the mop. Dean came up behind me and put a hand on my arm. I looked up to see him smiling at me.

“You’re handling this _well_. You doin okay?” He asked taking the mop from me.

“Yeah. My body feels like I went through a meat grinder and my apartment is wrecked but yeah, I guess I am okay?” I said looking at him, “I mean I am fairly certain that I am going to break down later.”

 “You’ll be okay. You seem like a tough cookie.” He said biting his lip forcing my stomach to flip, “You still hate me?”

“With fiery demonic passion.” I snickered and rolled my eyes.

Dean slipped his arm around my waist and kissed me. His hands placed carefully on my back and holding me closer to him. I kissed him harder and put fingers in his hair.

He lifted me off the ground and carried me to the top of the counter in the kitchen. His mouth wandered my neck hungrily; his fingers pushed my shirt up and squeezed my breasts. Reaching down, I pulled his belt apart and then worked on the button of his jeans. Dean dropped the dirty shirt I was wearing on the floor and kissed down my chest. He worked my pants from my body and pulled my butt to the edge of the counter. His hand rested on the small of my back forcing me to curve my spine.

Dean pushed his jeans and boxers to his knees. He swiftly pushed the panties I was wearing to the side and shoved his dick in me. I gripped his neck with the pads of my fingers and kissed him. He thrusted in harder and broke his lips away from mine. I let out small moans that matched his deep grunts. Dean slid his rough hand up my back and gripped my neck. The angle I was sitting at and the force behind his hips caused my body to flush and build up faster than normal. With a hip around his waist and nails on his back, I was begging him to slow down. Dean let out a small laugh and kissed me.

“I don’t think so.” He muttered then mashed his lips to mine. He trailed hard kissed on my neck then dragged his teeth on the hot skin. Dean pushed in deeper and deeper. I was moaning and begging for more or less. My head was spinning and my heart was beating erratically. I dug my nails in to his skin. I called out his name as Dean thrusted harder and force me to come hard. Sweat was lightly dampening his hair that was on his forehead as he kept pushing into me. I was breathing hard and trying not to fall apart in his arms.

“Fuck.” He grunted as he was close to coming. I kissed his lips, cheek and ears. I rubbed his neck and between his shoulders. I placed a mix of hard and soft kisses on his lips and neck.

“I’m gonna…,” he said with a grunt and a hard push.

The front door of the apartment swung open with Sam shouting his entrance.

“I brought beer and food!” He stepped in with bags, “oh shit. I’m sorry.”

I pressed my body against Dean and felt him wrap an arm around me.

“Damn it, Sammy!” Dean groaned.

“I’ll…. I’m gonna. God, that’s gonna scar me for the rest of my life.” Sam muttered as he dropped the bags and walked straight into my bedroom.

I looked at Dean and laughed hard, pressing my forehead into his shoulder. He rubbed my back and kissed my shoulder. He pushed his fingers into my shoulder and made me hiss with pain. He lifted my chin and looked me in the face.

“Still hate me?” He asked with a silly smile.

“Yeah.” I smiled and bit my lip, Dean jabbed his fingers into my side and tickled me.

“No you don’t.” He whispered as he pushed hair behind my ear.

“Maybe, you’re right.” I said softly.

 

After we dressed, Sam joined the room. He gave me an awkward smile as he pushed food towards me.

“So, this means I don’t get a normal life huh?” I asked them.

“Most people don’t go back to normal after we crash into their lives. But it is possible.” Dean said looking up at her from his burger.

“I figured as much. Should I move?” I asked them.

“What do you think?” Dean asked giving me a look.

Both men stayed in the apartment one more night then were gone. I was given a phone number and a promise to call if anything strange happened.

Sam smiled and nodded at me. As he turned away, I grabbed his arm and pulled him back; I hugged him around the middle and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you.” I whispered. He nodded and smiled.

Dean was leaned against the trunk.

“I don’t know what to say, Lucy or Annie. But I will get you figured out.” He said looking down then up at me.

“No you won’t.” I smirked at him. He put two fingers to my chin and kissed me.

“Oh I will. I am very resourceful.” He said with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

“Be safe.” I said putting my hand on his chest.

“Never.” He laughed. I hugged his neck and kissed his cheek.

“Call if you need anything.” He said stroking my cheek.

 I nodded and watched them drive away in their classic car rumbling down the asphalt. I had a strange feeling that I wasn’t done with them yet as I turned and went back into my building. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> more to come
> 
> comments, questions or love?


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